


To the Victor

by FettsOnTop (GTFF)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Leia Organa, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, ROTJ Missing Scene, Sexy Tales from Jabba's Palace, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019, Treat, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21574921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GTFF/pseuds/FettsOnTop
Summary: She knew what they expected. They made her wear this ridiculous costume. They expected her to be humiliated. They expected her to cringe and cower. Jabba demanded that she entertain them, and they expected her to dance or sing. “Give me a weapon,” she said, “and I’ll fight anyone in this room.”
Relationships: Boba Fett/Leia Organa
Comments: 16
Kudos: 266
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019





	To the Victor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wiccy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiccy/gifts).



She knew what they expected. They made her wear this ridiculous costume. They expected her to be humiliated. They expected her to cringe and cower. Jabba demanded that she entertain them, and they expected her to dance or sing. “Give me a weapon,” she said, “and I’ll fight anyone in this room.”

They treated it like a joke. Someone handed her a crude club, and a gamorrean guard lumbered towards her with his vibro-lance in hand. The lance was in her hand now. And the guard was sprawled out on the floor at her feet. 

They weren’t expected her to fight like that. And they definitely weren’t expecting her to triumph.

The motley crowd in the throne room was not only entertained, they were demonstratively on her side. They cheered and applauded as she turned to face Jabba, her shoulders heaving and her chin high. It was very tempting to hurl the lance straight at the gangster’s bulbous head.

The hutt began to speak, and the crowd quieted down to listen as C-3P0 translated. “The-the mighty Jabba is pleased with your performance. He wishes to offer you a reward.” The droid paused as the hutt continued. “He would like to offer you a night in a luxurious guest suite...with the company of your choice.”

“What does that mean?”

“You may choose any man or woman here to...ah...join you.”

“I choose Captain Solo.”

Jabba made a displeased noise and gave C-3P0 a shove. 

“M-my apologies for not explaining it correctly, your excellency. It must be someone of Jabba’s employ. It cannot be...another prisoner.”

Lando was somewhere in the crowd, disguised as a guard. But as Leia’s eyes skimmed over the audience she was struck by a different idea. A much bolder idea. And a far more risky one. She extended her arm and pointed. “I want him.”

An audible gasp rippled through the crowd. Jabba’s yellow eyes widened. “ _Murishani_?” He demanded, and C-3P0 translated meekly “The bounty hunter?”

“Yes.” Leia couldn’t see his face. It was hidden as always behind a battered Mandalorian helmet, but the light glinting off the T-shaped visor at least suggested that he was paying attention. “I want the bounty hunter.”

“I’m no slave,” he growled in reply.

“But you are Jabba’s employee.” She tapped the end of her vibro-lance against the floor for emphasis. “You work for him. Otherwise you’ve got some pretty strange hobbies.”

Someone cackled, but the sound died the second Fett’s helmet tilted in that direction. 

“C’mon,” she taunted. “I won't hurt you. I promise."

Bib Fortuna hurried to the bounty hunter’s side, but Leia couldn’t hear what he was saying. After a terse exchange, the majordomo looked back at Jabba and nodded. 

“Enjoy your night,” C-3P0 translated as the hutt spoke. “Tomorrow you will take your place of honor...at my side. Oh dear...”

Leia handed off her weapons to the closest guard and followed Bib Fortuna from the throne room with her prize trailing a few steps behind. 

Now that the adrenaline of the fight was fading she could take stock of her own condition. She was sweaty and dirty and reeked of whatever secretion gamorreans gave off when they were startled and afraid. She was also oozing blood from a scratch on her arm where her opponent’s fingernails had raked across her skin. 

Fortuna opened a door, and gestured for them to enter what passed for ‘luxurious’ guest quarters at Jabba’s palace. There was a bed smothered in heavy woven blankets and hides and a primitive toilet and sink behind a curtain. Otherwise it was a little short of amenities. 

The door shut with an unmistakable clang. She was locked in. With Boba Fett.

He turned to face her. “What do you want from me?” 

“What made you change your mind?”

“Jabba made it worth my time.”

“I thought so.” She folded her arms over her chest and looked straight into the visor of his helmet. “How much of your time would I need to purchase to help me escape?”

Fett tilted his head. “You alone?”

“All of us. Me. Han. Chewie.”

“To help you and the wookiee escape, fifty thousand each. But Solo stays.”

“Why?”

“I’ve already been paid for him. I don’t double deal.”

“Not ever or not usually?” Leia took a step closer to him and lowered her voice. “Because I can pay you a lot more than a hundred thousand credits. You know I can.”

“It’s not just money. Jabba is a good client...and a worse enemy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So you’re afraid of him.”

Fett answered her challenge by stepping in even closer until they were barely an arm’s length apart. “I know better than to cross him for someone like you, _Princess_.”

“Okay, fine,” she said with her sweetest smile. “I get it. I’ll let it go. I am, however, going to need you to take all of _that_ ” -she made a twirling gesture as his chest- “Off.”

He didn’t move.

“Unless you want me to tell Jabba that you’re not earning your pay.”

“I agreed to spend the night in the same room as you,” Fett replied in a cold tone. “That’s it. Lay a hand on me and lose it.”

Leia held up her hands, her fingers spread. “Oh, I’m not going to touch you. But for my own peace of mind I would like for you to be equally...disarmed.” She gestured at her own skimpy outfit in illustration. “If that’s a dealbreaker for you, call that lackey back in, because I want a new roommate.”

There was a silence that seemed to last several decades before the bounty hunter reached up and detached his rifle strap. He leaned his weapon against the wall and started on his belt. 

Satisfied by his capitulation, Leia backed off. She sat on the bed and watched as he slowly and methodically removed his gear. “You said Jabba was a good client. But he can’t be much fun to work for if he makes you do karked-up shit like this.”

Fett snorted and bent to set his armored gauntlet on the floor beside his rifle. “You could have just picked a slave and we could both be having a good night.”

“What makes you think I want to spend the night with a slave?”

“You want someone to order around. It’s not going to be me.” 

“Jabba seems to be able to order you around.” Leia crossed her legs and laced her fingers over her knee. “How does a girl get in on that action?"

“I told you the price for my help.”

“But you’re not giving me the full menu. What kind of person would I be if I abandoned Han?”

“A smart one.” He stacked the last of his armor along the wall and opened the neck of the one-piece garment he wore beneath it. He still hadn’t removed his helmet, and it seemed he didn’t intend to. His skin was darker than hers, and his underwear consisted of a plain undershirt and shorts. It was all very...humble.

Leia had never before considered the economic reality of being a bounty hunter. It didn’t seem like he spent a lot on himself. “Are you sure we can’t make a deal? I can make you disgustingly rich.”

Fett folded his arms over his chest. “Every target in my sights had the same offer made to them once.”

There were goosebumps on his arms. The moment Leia saw them she realized she was cold too. Desert climates cooled down quickly at night. She gathered up a covering made from soft leather hides in her fist and tossed it to him. “Here.” 

He caught it with a nod and wrapped it around his shoulders like a cloak. Leia selected a warm-looking roughspun blanket for herself, but the second it brushed her injured arm she regretted her choice. “Ow. Damn it.” She dropped the blanket and twisted around, trying to get a good look at the scratch. “The last thing I need is an infection,” she muttered in irritation. “I don’t suppose that sink has clean water?”

“Not clean enough for an open wound.” The bounty hunter stooped to retrieve a small bundle from his clothing and unrolled it on the bed. It was medkit with sterilizers and bacta patches. “Help yourself.”

Leia was taken aback by the offer. And a little suspicious. “That’s...very generous of you.”

“You fought well.” Fett took a step back, retreating into the hide blanket. “You should enjoy your reward.”

“Well, thank you.” She tore open a sterilizing packet and dabbed gingerly at the back of her arm. 

“And tell Jabba that my company was worth the price.”

Leia smiled, amused by his blatant angling. She cleaned her injury in silence for a few seconds, weighing her question before she spoke it. “So the helmet stays on. Is that a...cultural thing?”

“Yes. Also you don't smell great.”

She laughed, caught off guard by the casual insult. “Okay. Fair enough.” The bacta patch sealed to her skin immediately. At least he didn’t skimp on his medkit. “That feels a lot better.”

“You missed your back.”

“My back?” She maneuvered her uninjured arm around, and her fingers connected clumsily with another patch of torn skin. “ _Ow_.” 

“I can do it. If you wish.”

Leia leaned forward, wincing. “Please.” His fingers touched her naked back, the light contact producing an involuntary shiver. 

“Cold?”

“A little.” She pulled the roughspun blanket up over her lap as the bounty hunter drew closer. The edges of the hide blanket brushed her shoulders and she could feel the warmth from his body being so close to hers. 

He cleaned her wound and pressed another bacta patch into place. Leia waited for him to pull back and take the warmth with him, but he didn’t. He knelt on the bed behind her and adjusted the hide covering around them both. “Warmer?”

She _was_ warmer. His chest was against her back, knees bracketing her hips. Her pulse fluttered in her throat, her nerves on high alert. “What happened to ‘don’t touch me?'”

“Still applies. But I could touch you. If you want me to.”

“...I’m sorry, _what_?” She turned her head, forgetting for a moment that all she could see was his helmet. 

“I don’t take risks. Hands only. In this case, my hands. And yours stay where I can see them.”

It was, without a doubt, the strangest offer Leia had ever had. But he was being very direct about what he was offering and on what terms. There was something appealing about that. Not to mention _exciting_.

There was only one question lingering in her mind. “Why?”

“Like I said. You fought well.” There was a rough edge to his voice, even through the helmet’s filter. “I enjoyed watching you.”

The compliment brought a flush to her cheeks. She _had_ fought well. She had triumphed.

“Okay.” She drew her legs up, sitting cross-legged with her hands on her knees. “You can see my hands?”

“I can.” His own hands slipped beneath the rough-spun blanket and spread over her thighs. The pads of his fingers were rough, but his touch was gentle. Leia leaned back against his broad chest, squirming in anticipation as his thumbs stroked down the soft inside of her thighs and moved under the skirt of her costume. There was a thin undergarment beneath it, providing only the lightest barrier between his fingers and her most sensitive flesh. She inhaled sharply, bucking up against his fingers as they moved, light and teasing. If she closed her eyes and concentrated on that touch, she could ignore the hard edge of his helmet brushing against the crown of her head and the quick rise and fall of his chest against her shoulder blades.

She could, but she didn’t want to. 

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t ask for her reassurance. He kept touching her until her undergarments were damp with her desire and the smell of it filled the air. By the time he slipped a finger inside the edge she was panting, heat crackling in through her body like energy between power couplings. A gasp tore from her lips as he brushed over her clit, carefully circling her swollen nub. Her nails bit into her knees, fingers clutching with the effort of keeping them obediently positioned. Above all, she did not want him to stop. 

He tucked a finger inside her, then two, and then she was riding his fingers and the edge of her own climax while his other hand fit inside of her rigid top and played over her tight nipples. Without thought, without shame, she moved in rhythm with his touch. She was so close she could hardly breathe. His hand moved further up, brushing over her throat and then his fingers teased over her lower lip. Her mouth opened and she sucked willingly on the tips of his fingers. His whole body shuddered in response, indisputable proof just like the hardness pressed against the small of her back, that he was just as aroused as she was. 

His fingers dropped from her lips, wet fingertips brushing down the center of her chest and her stomach before dipping down the front of her costume. One light strum over her clit and lights danced in her vision as pleasure built, crested and pulsed through her core. It all came crashing in on her at once, the orgasm, the adrenaline, the tension. And then there was nothing but weightless bliss. 

She barely remembered curling up on the bed, or Fett covering her with the hide blanket before she fell asleep. 

When she woke up, the bounty hunter was sleeping beside her, wrapped in another blanket from the bed, still attired in just his underwear and his helmet. The latter was resting loosely on his head. She could see the underside of his chin, and the dark stubble that crept down his throat. 

Dark hair. What color were his eyes? Her gaze traveled sleepily over the curve of his shoulder, all that was visible outside of the blankets. How old was he? Where was he from?

Her fingers slipped out and traced the cold edge of his helmet. If she pushed the edge just a little, she might be to see his mouth. That made her think about his fingers in her mouth, the way they tasted like leather and steel and her own arousal. 

She had come this far, in spite of his reticence. _You’re going to help me, Boba Fett._

Her thumb curved around the edge of the helmet, and her heart began to race. It seemed obvious now that his threats were empty. He wouldn’t dare harm Jabba’s prize captive. She got the helmet halfway up before he woke. His hand closed around her wrist but by then the momentum was on her side. The helmet tipped off his head as he lunged forward, pinning her to the mattress in a reflex that was more defensive than angry. 

He looked down at her. His eyes were a burnished brown. “You’re trouble,” he said, just before he kissed her. He kissed like a man who liked trouble quite a bit.   
  
She had come this far. There was no way she was going to leave Jabba's palace as anything less than the victor.   
  



End file.
